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MEMOIR 


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(L^S?’  C)'So  C^i^-sO  og-xJ  ^s 


— BY — 


-K-]VI]^^.  ]V[.  £.  LiplD^/iy-ii- 


DUE  WEST,  S.  C.  : 

‘Associate  Eefokmed  Presbyterian”  Print. 


1887. 


DEDICATED 

TO  THE  FKIENDS  AND  PUPILS  OF 

MISS  ELIZABETH  McQUERNS, 

SOME  OF  WHOM  APE  EVEN  NOW  “STAKS”  IN  HER  “CROWN  OF 
REJOICING,”  WHILST  MANY  OTHERS  WE  MAY  HOPE 
AVILL  MEET  AND  GREET  HER  IN  THAT 
HIGHER  SCHOOL  TO  AVHICH  SHE 
HAS  BEEN  TRANSFERRED. 


X' 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2017  with  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


https://archive.org/details/memoirofmisselizOOIind 


IN  MNMORJ^VM. 


lu  this  feeble  and  imperfect  sketch  of  an  eminently  useful 
woman,  I shall  refrain  from  eulogy,  beyond  that  which  falls 
spontaneously  from  pen  and  lips,  when  those  who  knew  her  best 
write  or  speak  of  her.  As  relative,  teacher  and  friend  she  is  as- 
sociated with  my  earliest  recollections,  and  for  the  past  eighteen 
years  a beloved  and  revered  inmate  of  my  home  ; therefore  it  has 
seemed,  by  those  most  interested  and  best  capable  of  judging, 
“not  unseemly”  that  upon  me  should  devolve  the  mournful  task 
of  thus  in  some  degree  commemorating  her  character  and  virtues. 

It  is  with  a sorrowful  heart  that  I recognize  and  try  to  measure 
my  own  personal  loss  and,  I doubt  not,  that  hundreds  of  pupils 
and  friends  from  every  section  of  our  country,  and  even  in  the 
“regions  beyond,”  will  unite  with  me  in  the  desire  to  keep  her 
“memory  green”  and  to  cull  from  it  for  our  guidance  something 
of  the  virtues  it  exemplified,  so  that  “though  dead  she  may  yet 
speak.” 

The  memory  of  the  just  is  a heritage  of  priceless  value.  Em- 
phatically may  this  grand  title  be  applied  to  our  beloved  friend. 
Length  of  days  through  a kind  Providence  was  hers,  in  which  to 
teach  the  great  lesson  of  faithfulness  to  duty,  and  by  the  same 
gracious  Benefactor  she  was  well  equipped  for  its  performance. 
Endowed  with  a heart  permeated  Avith  desire  for  usefulness,  a 
benevolence  suirerlatively  self-denying,  industry  unwearied  and 
unintermittent,  talents  Avhich  though  not  the  favored  servant’s 
allotment  were  yet  so  invested  as  to  yield  an  exceptionally  satis- 
factory evidence  of  profitable  stewardship,  a constitution  that 
carried  her  through  three  generations  with  a comparatively  small 
modicum  of  pain  or  serious  illness,  and  a childlike  sjiirit  whose 
trust  was  unwavering — Avhat  wonder  that  her  life  was  a bene- 
diction ? 

Elizabeth  McQuerns  was  the  youngest  child  of  Samuel  and 
Bettie  (Thompson)  McQuerns,  both  of  whom  were  natives  of  Ire- 
land. Whether  married  before  or  after  their  emigration  to  this 


6 


country  we  do  not  know.  Among  my  own  family  records  are 
dismissions  of  ancestors  from  the  church  of  which  her  parents 
were  members..  Written  in  the  quaint  style  of  the  i^eriod,  they, 
with  the  substitution  of  different  names,  are  no  doubt  literal 
copies  of  those  granted  to  her  2iarents,  and  as  illustrative  of  her 
godly  ancestry,  and  as  an  old-time  relic,  one  of  these  is  tran- 
scribed : 

“We  the  undersigned  j^erfons  do  certify  that  Ave  have  kuoAvn 

the  bearer and  his  Avife  and  family  ujAAvards  of  nine 

years,  Avho  have  all  behaved  themfelves  Honeftly,  Soberly  and 
Inoffensively  and  may  All  be  Received  into  any  Protestant  De- 
centing  congregation  in  the  PTniverse  for  anything  ever  heard  of 
or  known  by  us.  * 

“Given  under  our  hand  this  27th  September,  1787,  at  Clough, 
County  Antrim,  Ireland. 

Elders,  Pastor, 

Thos.  Gaston,  Rev.  JosejAh  Duglass. 

Robt.  Boyd, 

Nash  White. 

It  Avas  then  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1787  that  her  grand- 
jAarents,  parents,  and  a colony,  amongst  Avhom  Avere  the  Fairs, 
ThomjAsons,  Adgers,  Drennans,  and  other  families  Avell  knoAvn  in 
this  country,  came  over  as  jAassengers  in  the  same  shijA.  Several 
of  these  settled  in  NeAvberry  District,  and  connected  themselv' s 
Avith  the  Associate  Reformed  Church  at  Cannon’s  Ci’eek.  In 
that  County  she  Avas  born  March  8th,  1802. 

Her  recollections  of  these  infant  years  were  indistinct.  Unlike 
many  of  the  aged  Avhose  garrulity  delights  in  the  “good  old 
times”  of  the  past,  she  lived  too  interestedly  in  present  and  pass- 
ing events  to  retain  a vivdd  memory  of  scenes  obscured  by  the 
dust  of  decades.  There  were,  however,  a feAv  impressions  inefface- 
able, among  these  Avas  her  first  school  ex^Aerience.  The  teacher 
was  a phlegmatic  jAerson  of  Dutch  lineage,  from  AvhoAU  in  a feAV 
months  she  learned  to  “read,  Avrite  and  cipher,”  a creditable  rec- 
ord for  a ^Aupil  AA’hose  instructor  Avas  so  inefficient  as  often  to 
sleejA  in  the  midst  of  a recitation,  an  examjAle  Avhich  she  Avould 
humorously  say  “she  had  never  imitated.” 

Whilst  still  young,  her  ^Aarents  removed  to  a section  of  Abbe- 
ville County  called  “Hard  Labor.”  It  Avould  be  interesting  to 
know  Avhether  this  unpromising  name  originated  from  a local 
cause  or  Avas  bestoAved  by  some  discouraged  first  settler. 


/ 


Having  tasted  the  fruit  of  knowledge  she  was  eager  “for  more,” 
but  the  elder  children  had  the  precedence  in  such  education  as 
their  circumstances  and  the  period  afforded,  on  the  same  principle 
that  the  well-preserved  garment  descended  the  “stair  steps,”  and- 
the  youngest  child  rarely  owned  a “brand-new  suit”  until  too  large 
to  wear  “made  over”  clothes.  These  years  must  have  included 
the  time  when  she  “studied  with  an  open  book  at  her  side,  whilst 
carding  rolls' for  the  spiniiing  wheel,”  or  “parsed  a sentence  in 
grammar  whilst  walking  back  and  forth  twisting  the  thread,”  an 
experience  referred  to  when  urging  her  pupils  to  profit  by  their 
exceptional  advantage  in  this  regard. 

She  must  have  been  eighteen  years  old  when  both  parents  in  a 
few  weeks  of  each  other  died  with  a malignant  fever,  for  it  was 
previous  to  their  death  that  her  life’s  romance  occurred.  Her 
affection  had  been  won  and  troth  plighted  to  a young  physician 
practicing  in  the  settlement.  Whether  his  character  was  objec- 
tionable or  some  other  ground  of  dislike,  so  it  was,  that  her  father 
strenuously  opposed  their  marriage,  and  on  his  death-bed  won 
from  her  a promise  to  annul  their  engagement.  Her  filial  obedi- 
ence was  thus  subjected  to  a severe  test  and  “found  not  wanting.” 
It  must,  however,  have  been  a trial  to  her,  as  their  mutual  affection 
was  strong.  He,  too,  was  both  intelligent  and  cultivated,  proba- 
bly above  the  average.  This  is  presumed  from  letters  and  origi- 
nal i^oetry  which,  with  the  desire  for  symi^athy  so  natural,  she 
allowed  a confidential  friend,  long  after  his  early  death,  to  read, 
and  which  were  not  inferior,  perhaps,  to  the  like  effusions  of  the 
present  cultured  age.  These,  with  many  precious  mementoes  of 
her  girlhood,  were  burned  in  the  hotel  at  Due  West,  in  1865. 

Her  parents  after  their  removal  connected  themselves  with  the 
Associate  Reformed  Church  at  Cedar  Springs,  and  though  several 
miles  distant  the  family  regularly  attended  its  services.  Riding 
on  horseback  behind  an  elder  sister  or  in  “the  gig”  with  her 
mother,  the  early  Sabbath  hours  found  them  churchward,  and  in 
deprecating  the  frequent  criticism  of  the  present-day-long  sermon, 
she  said  there  might  have  been,  but  she  did  not  recollect,  com- 
plaint or  weariness  of  these  Sabbath  exercises,  although  the  rays 
of  the  setting  sun  ofttimes  mingled  with  the  benediction.  The 
good  mother,  as  was  customary  excepting  on  the  rigidly  observed 
fast  days,  always  provided  lunch.  This  in  summer  was  discussed 
with  the  sermon,  both  no  doubt  heartily,  in  the  shade  of  an 


8 


adjacent  grove  ; in  winter  by  fires  kindled  for  comfort  and  to 
make  coffee  for  the  aged.  “Presbyterian  bread,”  from  flour  or  corn 
meal,  was  a regular  institution,  and  fried  in  egg-batter  made  cap- 
ital sandwiches.  Iso  other  “dainty  dish”  was  ever  sweeter  than 
these  simple  lunches,  eaten  in  the  intervals  of  sermons  which, 
without  fear  or  favor,  discussed  decrees  and  propounded  the  strong 
doctrines  of  the  covenanting  faith,  all  untroubled  by  the  miser- 
able ifliantasies  of  “science  so  called.”  Stoves  were  ^ luxury  as 
yet  unconceived.  The  infirm  and  invalids  sometimes  indulged  in 
a hot  brick,  and  but  one  jDerson,  probably  the  aristocrat,  had  a 
perforated  tin  box  in  which  could  be  set  a cuji  full  of  coals. 

An  incident  of  these  years  she  sorrowfully  recalled.  Under 
her  mother’s  care  was  an  orphan  sister,  a bright  girl  much  be- 
loved by  the  family.  With  youth  and  health,  joyous  and  bouy- 
ant,  she  on  a wintry  day  engaged  in  a snow-ball  frolic.  To 
eseajDC  the  pelting  of  her  companions  she  ran  hastily  into  an  out 
house,  slipped  and  accidentally  fell  across  the  “beam”  of  a loom. 
A servant  Avho  was  weaving  ran  to  her  aid,  found  that  she  had 
fainted,  and  called  for  assistance  ; but  the  efforts  of  friends  and 
jihysiciaus  were  unavailing,  even  to  restore  consciousness,  and  in 
a brief  period  .she  died.  Tliis  terrible  shock  was  a life  remem- 
brance. 

Tlie  death  of  her  parents  and  marriage  of  her  elder  brother 
and  sisters  left  henself  and  younger  brother  alone  in  the  old 
homestead.  The  interval  in  which  they  thus  lived,  she  recalled 
with  pleasure,  and  we  may  i^resume  that  with  characteristic  fidel- 
ity she  “kept  house.”  Whether  she  was  as  yet  a communicant, 
or  when  and  under  whose  ministry  she  united  with  the  church, 
we  do  not  and  can  not  now  know  ; but  probably  not,  as  she  was 
fond  of  the  social  dance  and  other  worldly  amusements,  though 
disliking  and  rarely  participating  in  the  somewhat  rude  “plays” 
then  “the  fashion.” 

The  marriage  of  this  brother  released  her  from  this  duty,  and 
with  the  thirst  for  knowledge  unquenche.d  she  decided  to  utilize 
her  small  inherited  jDroperty  in  securing  such  education  as  would 
enable  her  to  become  self-suj^porting  as  a teacher.  A portion  of 
this  had  been  unfortunately  lost,  nor  was  this  her  only  similar 
experience.  She  lived  to  see  the  earnings  of  her  life,  of  Avhich 
not  a penny  was  stained  by  the  “rust  which  corrupts,”  all  swept 


9 


♦ 


away  through  misplaced  trust,  and,  thus  impoverished,  her  latter 
end  pecuniarily  was  smaller  than  its  beginning. 

She  had  relatives  and  friends  at  Newberry  C.  H.,  and  thither 
she  went,  resolved  to  “make  the  most”  of  such  opportunity  for 
culture  as  could  there  be  obtained.  In  the  school  and  family  of 
Dr.  Samuel  Pressly,  a distinguished  educator,  who  afterwards  OC’ 
copied  the  President’s  chair  in  the  University  of  Georgia,  she  was 
received  as  pupil  and  boarder.  Here  she  found  congenial  friends, 
and  in  Dr.  Pressly  a mentor,  for  whom  she  ever  retained  a grate- 
ful regard.  How  few  are  thus  favored — to  hold  a warm  place  in 
the  heart  of  a pupil  for  more  than  sixty  yeai’s  ! 

In  a class  of  boys  who  were  being  prepared  for  College,  and 
of  other  girls,  she  studied  Latin,  mathematics,  &c.,  and  with  par- 
donable vanity,  inasmuch  as  it  demonstrated  what  was  then 
scarcely  within  the  pale  of  argument,  she  recalled  the  class-marks, 
most  creditable  to  her  sex,  therefore  a reliable  proof  that,  men" 
tally,  they  were  not  so  very  inferior. 

An  incident  grim  and  tragic,  but  illustrative  of  “the  way  they 
did  things  in  those  days,”  she  sometimes  described  in  an  impres- 
sive manner,  and  with  something  of  the  “bated  breath”  with 
which,  under  favorable  surroundings,  a shadowed  room,  an  eerie 
wind,  and  appreciative  listeners,  a wierd  ghost-tale  should  be  re- 
lated. It  seems  that  a man  of  good  family  and  some  wealth  had 
committed  an  atrocious  murder.  He  Avas  found  guilty  and  con- 
demned. Dr.  Pressly  Avas  appointed  by  the  authorities,  or  select- 
ed by  himself,  as  his  spiritual  guide  and  comforter,  in  this  dread- 
ful strait.  On  the  day  of  his  execution,  a bleak,  inclement  day. 
Dr.  Pressly  preached  his  funeral  in  the  village  court  house,  to  an 
immense  throng,  the  Doctor’s  OAvn  family  and  pupils,  as  also  the 
friends  of  the  doomed  man  being  present.  Draped  in  his  shroud, 
and  shivering  Avith  mortal  terror,  the  victim  listened  attentively 
to  his  OAvn  funeral  discourse,  knoAving  that  each  Avord  as  it  fell, 
represented  a moment  of  the  fcAv  remaining  to  him,  ere  launched 
into  the  aAvful  realities  of  eternity.  Although  sick  Avith  the  hor- 
ror of  the  scene,  it  had  a fearful  fascination,  and  albeit  unAvilling- 
ly,  she  took  in  every  detail.  Her  last  glimpse  of  the  criminal,  as 
Avith  Dr.  Pressly,  and  seated  on  his  OAvn  coffin,  he  Avas  drh'en 
through  the  surging  croAvd,  AA'as  ineffaceable.  Many  women,  as 
Avell  as  a multitude  of  men,  flocked  to  the  place  of  execution, 


10 


and  she  “was  glad  that  their  own  i^arty  were  surfeited  with  the 
ghastly  tragedy,  and  decided  to  return  to  their  home.” 

This  was  but  an  episode  in  the  otherwise  hapj^y  period  of  her 
“school  days,”  as  hundreds  who  have  passed  from  her  tuition 
have  heard,  and  themselves  expeiienced,  when  their  own  class 
books  were  closed,  to  be  replaced  by  those  in  which  are  engraved 
life’s  sterner  lessons. 

When  her  pui'se  was  nearly  depleted.  Miss  IMcQuerns,  through 
her  friend,  James  Fair,  Esq.,  secured  a school  near  his  home  at 
“Fair’s  Bridge,”  in  Abbeville  County.  This  was  probably  in 
1829.  So  efficient  was  she  in  this  first  attenqjt,  as  to  leave  an 
abiding  inq'jress  upon  persons  yet  living,  who  here  enjoyed  the 
benefit  of  her  “prentice”  teaching. 

In  1832  her  life-long  friend  and  relative,  Capt.  Win.  T.  Dren- 
nan,  secured  for  her  a promising  field  at  Mt.  Carmel,  a small 
village  but  a short  distance  from  the  then  celebrated  Willington 
school.  Her  first  year  here  was  in  an  “old  field  school  house,” 
e.Kcepting  that  it  was  embowered  in  a grove  of  hickory  and  chest- 
nut trees,  with  a luxuriant  undergrowth  of  the  huckleberry,  all 
of'  whidi  were  a “joy”  to  the  scholars,  only  from  the  advan- 
tage which  the  sprouts  afforded  her  in  the  application  of  that 
instrument,  so  earnestly  recommended  by.  “the  Avisest  man,”  the 
which  she  literally  interpreted  and  conscientiously  applied.  ■ Her 
first  examination  here  Avas  held  in  Zoar  Methodist  church. 
Around  the  box-pulpit  Avas  erected  a platform,  on  Avhich  Avere 
seated  distinguished  persons,  amongst  Avhom  Avas  Dr.  Moses  Wad- 
del,  the  veteran  teacher,  and  his  sons,  Avith  others,  whose  fame 
has  and  Avill  survive  Avhen.  their  mortal  remains  shall  have  dis- 
solved into  their  native  element.  This  occasion,  although  not  so 
recherche,  Avas  no  doubt  as  enjoyable,  and  afforded  her  as  much 
solid  satisfaction  as  the  Commencements  of  her  latter  years.  Dr. 
Waddell  opened  the  exercises  Avith  prayer,  and  closed  them  with 
a congratulatory  address,  in  Avhich  he  said  : “I  have  attended 
many  examinations,  but  have  never  seen  such  progress  in  so  short 
a time.”  From  the  feeble  lips  of  a friend  Avhose  age  ajjproxi- 
mates  her  oavu,  these  facts  are  obtained.  She  had  found  her  vo- 
cation and  Avas  thenceforth  Avedded  to  it. 

So  encouraged  Avere  the  trustees  of  this  school  Avith  its  pros- 
pects and  condition,  that  they  jAurchased  a large  and  more  com- 


11 


fortable  building,  with  a hall,  piazza,  and  several  rooms.  In  the 
meantime,  her  weeks  of  vacation  were  spent  in  the  city  of  Augus- 
ta, Ga.,  and  there  utilized  in  the  improvement  of  her  knowledge 
of  music  and  drawing. 

Under  the  present  flattering  prospect,  she  allowed  herself  the 
joy  of  one  of  her  life’s  benefactions.  An  orphan  neice.  Miss 
Sarah  Ann  McQuerns,  was  sent  for,  whose  expense  of  boarding, 
education,  Ac.,  she  thenceforth  assumed,  until  her  marriage  with 
Rev.  Mr.  Millen,  in  1841,  released  her  from  this  responsibility. 
This  neice  was  a pious  and  lovely  girl.  Their  mutual  attach- 
ment was  strong,  and  the  death  of  Mrs.  Millen  a few  months  after 
marriage  was  a sorrow.  After  more  than  forty  years,  have  they 
not  met  and  recalled  the  affectionate  association  of  this  period? 

The  next  session  of  her  school  brought  such  an  influx  of  pupils 
that  she  found  it  necessary  to  employ  an  assistant.  Rev.  Isaac 
Waddell,  then  pastor  of  Willington  church,  and  with  increasing 
reputation  and  influence,  scattering  with  lavish  hand  the  seeds 
of  immortelles  both  in  Carolina  and  Georgia,  she  abided  under 
this  “vine”  of  her  own  culture  for  the  succeeding  seven  years. 

But  the  responsibility  of  so  large  a school  and  the  overwork 
consequent  injured  her  health,  and  at  the  ex^^iration  of  this  period 
her  resignation  was  reluctantly  accepted,  and  she  returned  to 
Fair’s  Bridge,  where  in  the  family  of  Esq.  Fair  she  resided  for  a 
year  as  guest  and  governess.  ' 

Then  she  came  to  Due  West,  which  place  from  thenceforth  was 
a sort  of  INIecca  to  her,  or  an  “ark”  to  which  from  her  absences 
she  returned  “as  a dove  to  its  window.”'  Here  she  remained  for 
an  interval,  teaching  in  an  academy  adjoining  the  church  lot. 
Probably,  too,  it  was  about  this  time  that  she  seized  the  opportu- 
nity of  a Synodical  meeting  in  Tennessee  to  accompany  some 
friends  who  were  delegates,  on  a visit  to  her  sisters,  there  resi- 
dent, and  spent  a year  with  them.  Both  of  these  sisters  were  in 
such  circumstances  as  to  have  made  her  very  comfortable  in  their 
homes,  and  they  insisted  upon  her  remaining  with  them.  But 
she  preferred  “to  eat  the  bread  of  her  own  earning,”  and  grate- 
fully but  firmly  declined.  They  then  offered  to  secure  for  her  a 
school  very  near  to  them  ; but  “the  climate  was  too  bleak,”  and 
she  longed  for  the  sunny  warmth  of  her  native  State.  Her’s  was 
the  experience  of  so  many  Carolinians  who,  in  the  language  of  that 


12 


eloquent  minister,  Dr.  Palmer,  “In  all  their  wanderings  breathe 
no  more  fervent  prayer  than  in  death  to  sleep  upon  her  faithful 
bosom  until  the  awful  day.”  Tlienceforth,  whatsoever  was  Caro- 
lina’s destiny,  whether  overwhelmed  by  the  dire  calamities  of  war 
or  springing  Phoenix  like  from  the  ashes  of  its  dead  hopes,  it  Avas 
for  her  a “good  enough  home,  in  Avhich  to  live,  to  die,  and  be 
buried.” 

On  her  return  she  accepted  a school  on  Hard  Labor,  princi- 
pally induced  thereto  by  the  opportunity  of  educating  the  children 
of  a neice.  In  1847  she  again  returned  to  Mt.  Carmel,  Avhere  she 
remained  three  years ; thence  to  Due  AVest,  Avhere  she  taught  a 
full  school  until  1853.  In  the  meantime  the  Presbyterian  Female 
College  at  Anderson  C.  H.,  under  the  care  of  Kev.  Ebenezer 
Pressly,  formerly  President  of  Erskine  College,  Avas  acquiring 
repute,  and  she  accepted  his  invitation  to  become  assistant  teacher 
therein.  In  this  pleasant  village  she  formed,  as  elseAA'here,  Avarm 
and  abiding  friendships,  and  established  in  her  vocation  that 
“good  name”  which  is  “better  than  precious  ointment.”  After 
Dr.  Pressly’s  resignation,  she  remained  in  this  college  some  years, 
in  connection  Avith  Rev.  A.  A.  Morse,  Rev.  J.  0.  Lindsay,  and 
probably  Rev.  Samuel  Jones  of  the  Methodist  Church,  winning 
the  esteem  of  her  associate  teachers  and  the  alFection  of  her  pu- 
pils, one  of  whom  recently  remarked,  “No  one  but  my  mother 
ever  had  so  much  to  do  in  moulding  my  character  as  my  beloved 
friend  and  teacher.  Miss  McQuerns.” 

From  Anderson  our  friend  returned  to  Due  AFest.  The  school 
here  Avas  assuming  a larger  area  of  usefulness,  and  in  1859  a 
meeting  of  the  citizens  Avas  held,  in  Avhich  it  Avas  determined  to 
give  it  a more  permanent  organization.  Liberal  subsci’iptions 
Avere  received,  the  erection  of  a suitable  building  begun,  a com- 
petent faculty  elected.  Miss  McQuerns  among  the  number,  and  a 
charter  secured  for  the  Due  AA^est  Female  College. 

Classes  Avere  organized  in  the  Fall  of  this  year,  and  from  that 
auspicious  day  until  her  death  she  Avas  an  honored,  tliough  latter- 
ly, from  her  age  and  infirmities,  rather  an  honorary,  member  of 
the  Faculty,  Until  1866  she  Avas  Principal  of  the  Primary  De- 
partment ; afterAvards  teacher  of  Astronomy,  Botany,  and  the 
ornamental  branches.  Hoav  many  Avill  recall  the  pleasant  hours 
of  some  cloudless  night,  Avhen  suri'ounded  by  her  class — a galaxy 


13 


of  more  intrinsic  worth,  because  of  its  immortal  capacities,  than 
Orion  or  Pleiades — she  would  trace  the  constellations  and  “call 
them  by  their  names.”  Or,  on  some  bright  spring  day,  accom- 
pany the  Botany  class  in  a search  for  wild  flowers,  and  with 
unwearied  patience  analyze  and  explain,  though  their  youthful 
exuberance  doubtless  found  more  pleasure  in  the  fresh  air  and 
glowing  exercise  than  in  the  drier  fields  of  Botanical  research. 
“A  thing  of  beauty”  was  a “joy”  to  her,  whether  in -the  “heavens 
above  or  the  earth  beneath,”  whether  artistic  or  the  more  humble 
creation  of  unskilled  hands.  And  as  she  grew  aged  and  deaf, 
and  her  inability  for  active  service  increased,  she  found  in  “fancy 
work”  a congenial  einjaloyment.  Mementoes  of  her  taste  and  the 
skill  of  her  trembling,  wrinkled  fingers,  are  found  in  scores  of 
homes. 

In  the  family  of  James  Lindsay,  Esq.,  who  was  a devoted 
friend  and  benefactor  of  Erskine  (male)  College,  she  boarded, 
with  the  exception  of  a few  months,  during  all  of  her  residence 
in  Due  West,  and  their  mutual  esteem  was  strong.  But,  one  by 
one,  she  saw  them  pass  away ; the  parents  and  six  children,  leav- 
ing to  perpetuate  his  honored  name,  only  the  elder  and  youngest 
brothers  of  all  this  household,  whom  she  found  so  happy  and 
promising.  With  the  widowed  mother  she  mourned  when  her 
brave  boys  were  brought  from  the  battle-fields  of  Virginia.  By 
the  side  of  husband  and  children  she  saw  this  bereaved  mother 
laid,  and  Mrs.  Dr.  Bonner,  the  only  daughter,  and  her  beloved 
pupil  and  friend,  after  a space,  went  to  join  the  family  circle. 
Her  brothers  and  sisters,  her  dear  relative  Capt.  Drelinan,  and, 
with  few  exceptions,  all  the  friends  of  her  youth,  had  now  gone 
“beyond  the  river.”  Ah,  how  desolate  is  the  feeling,  that  in  all 
the  world  there’s  not  oxe  left  to  call  the  familiar  given  name. 

Other  troubles,  too,  beset  her.  Whilst  sojourning  for  a few 
months  at  the  hotel,  during  the  dark  days  Avhich  followed  the 
war,  it  was  burned  by  an  incendiary,  and  she,  with  others,  were 
only  saved  by  leaping  from  an  upper  balcony,  upon  mattresses 
held  to  receive  them.  Clothing,  books  and  valuables  were  all 
consumed,  and  to  add  to  her  discomfort  she  was  notified  of  the 
loss  elsewhere  of  some  thousands  of  dollars,  on  which  she  depend- 
ed to  tide  her  comfortably,  and  independently,  through  the  ex- 
treme age  on  which  she  was  entering.  Yet,  in  all  this  she  “sinned 
not.”  “I  have  been  young,  and  now  am  old,  yet  have  I not  seen 


14 


the  righteous  forsaken,  nor  his  seed  begging  bread.”  This  was  her 
assured  liope,  nor  was  it  misplaced.  “The  barrel  of  meal”  did 
not  “waste”  nor  the  “cruse  of  oil  fail”  until  the  day  on  uhich  she 
entered  into  an  heavenly  inheritance. 

Her  sevcntv-hfth  year  was  celebrated  by  what  thereafter  con- 
stituted an  annual  holiday  and  season  of  social  pleasure  in  the 
College,  viz.,  a birth-day  dinner,  accompanied  by  the  presentation 
of  “gifts”  from  friends,  in  and  out  of  the  College,  particularly 
the  associate  teachers  and  the  senior  class  of  young  ladies.  Al- 
thousih  deeplv  grateful  for  these  exhibitions  of  esteem,  yet  with  a 
characteristic  independence  which  shrank  from  obligation,  and  a 
humilitv,  the  last  to  recognize  her  own  worth,  it  was  almost,  if 
not  quite,  with  a feeling  of  self-denial  that  she  suffered  herself  to 
become  the  honored  guest  of  these  festivals,  the  last  of  which, 
with  more  than  usual  pleasure,  occurred  on  IMarch  8,  1886. 

The  death  of  Dr.  Bonner,  President  of  the  College,  was  a sor- 
rowful event  to  her,  as  well  as  to  the  Institution.  We  are  temj^t- 
ed  here  to  pay  a just  tribute  to  this  eminent  man,  whose  loss,  to 
church  aud  school,  to  society  and  home,  is  so  deeply  felt  and  sin- 
cerely lamented,  but  forbear.  Under  his  wise  and  nurturing 
government,  assisted  by  an  excellent  corps  of  teachers,  the  Col- 
lege doors  had  been  opened,  wide  and  invitingly,  to  throngs  of 
intelligent  school-girls,  and  with  assured  reputation  it  had  become 
a power  for  good.  She  had  here  retained  her  position,  whilst 
teachers  and  pupils,  year  by  year,  had  come  and  gone,  some  to 
their  life-work,  some  to  the  grave.  And  when  this  her  unwaver- 
ing friend  was  “touched  by  the  finger  of  God  and  died,”  she 
“mourned.”  Tears  from  the  dim  eyes  of  age,  and  smiles  from  its 
pallid,  trembling  lips,  arc  alike  scant  and  pitiful  ; but  hers  was 
that  perennial  heart  which  can  “rejoice  with  them  that  do  rejoice, 
and  weep  with  them  that  weep.” 

In  this  trouble,  as.  personally  affected,  she  j^atiently  bided,  call- 
ing to  remembrance  her  life-long  “songs  in  the  night.”  Though 
“lover  and  friend  hast  thou  put  far  from  me  and  mine  acquaint- 
ance into  darkness,”  yet  “in  the  Lord  do  I put  my  trust.”  He 
is  mv  God,  my  “times  are  in  his  hand.”  So  from  this  strait  she 
was  again  removed  into  a “large  place,”  and  the  path  for  her 
tottering  feet  was  smoothed. 

The  death  of  Dr.  Bonner  necessitated  a re-organization  of  the 
Faculty,  in  which  Prof.  J.  P.  Kennedy  was  elected  President, 


15 


and  Mrs.  Kate  P.  Kennedy  and  Mrs.  Lila  M.  Bonner,  vice- 
Principals.  These  all,  were  devoted  friends  of  Miss  McQuerns. 
Mrs.  Kennedy  had  been  her  pupil,  and  revered  her  as  a mother. 
Her  resignation  which,  recognizing  her  failing  capacities,  she 
then,  and  repeatedly  thereafter  tendered,  was  not  accepted;  Mr. 
Kennedy  assuring  her,  with  other  cheering  words,  that  he  con- 
sidered her  example  and  prayers  in  behalf  of  the  College,  of  more 
benefit  than  the  service  of  its  most  efficient  teacher.  And  was 
he  mistaken?  The  influence  of  such  a person,  who  can  estimate? 
It  leaves  ineffaceable  traces  on  the  shores  of  time,  but  its  real 
fruitage  is  stored  in  the  garners  of  eternity.  To  these  friends, 
and  others  of  the  Faculty,  for  all  their  unwearied  kindness, 
which  undoubtedly  prolonged  her  life,  in  behalf  of  the  thousands 
in  whose  homes  her  name  is  a “household  word,”  and  for  myself, 
to  whom  was  granted  the  precious  privilege  of  ministering  to  her, 
as,  day  by  day,  she  drew  nearer  the  foot  of  the  hill,  I would  here 
express  sincere  gratitude. 

I have  spoken  elsewhere  of  her  piety.  In  this  regard  she  was 
a “living  epistle.”  Devotedly  attached  to  the  Associate  Eeform- 
ed  Presbyterian  Church,  of  which  she  was  a member,  yet  her 
catholic  spirit  included  in  its  love  all  who  “name  the  name  of 
Jesus.”  In  every  “good  word  and  work”  she  was  interested. 
Through  her  efforts  the  Ladies  Benevolent  Society  of  this  place 
originated,  and  at  her  instigation  letters  were  written  throughout 
the  church  urging  such  organizations.  Their  successful  operation 
is  a congratulation  to  all  who  are  interested  in  the  philanthropy 
of  the  period,  whether  in  home  or  foreign  fields.  In  the  estab- 
lishment of  a W.  C.  T.  L^.  at  this  place  she  exerted  herself,  even 
in  her  great  weakness,  and  rejoiced  in  the  reports  of  the  influ- 
ence for  good  that  woman  is  exerting  in  this  great  question. 
Foreign  missions  claimed  its  place  in  her  heart.  The  first  mis- 
sionary sent  forth  by  her  church,  3Irs.  Giffen,  nee  Miss  Mary 
Galloway,  was  her  pupil  and  loving  friend,  with  whom  she  cor- 
responded, and  for  whom  she  prayed  until  the  death  of  Mrs. 
Giffen,  in  Egypt,  blighted  her  bright  promise  of  usefulness  in  that 
benighted  land. 

In  her  benefactions  Miss  McQuerns  was  phenomenally  gener- 
ous. “Give  to  him  that  asketh  of  thee,  and  from  him  that  would 
borrow  of  thee  turn  not  thou  away,”  was  a rule,  the  literal 
observance  of  which  in  her  last  decade,  and  with  her  weakened 


16 


judgment,  became  so  impoverishing  that  her  friends,  as  far  as  was 
just  and  right,  exerted  themselves  to  shield  her  from  the  impor- 
tunities of  the  impecunious.  Unworthily  as  was  her  beneficence 
sometimes  bestowed,  yet  acting  from  such  a principle,  the  “bread 
upon  the  waters”  was  returned  her  “many  fold.” 

From  all  this  we  may  gather  these  traits  of  her  spiritual  char- 
acter— that  its  distinctive  features  were,  unswerving  trust  in  God, 
a sujn-eme  loyalty  to  the  Word  of  God,  constancy  and  fidelity  in 
the  public  and  private  worship  of  God,  and  a desire  amounting 
to  zeal  to  co-operate  in  all  schemes  for  the  promotion  of  the  well- 
being of  humanity.  “To  do  good  and  to  communicate”  was  her 
great  delight.  Her  motto,  “Trust  in  the  Lord  and  do  good,”  and 
its  promise  she  literally  exjierienced,  “So  shalt  thou  dwell  in  the 
land  and  verily  thou  shalt  be  fed.”  The  “straight  path”  was  to 
her  the  jalainest,  and  it  Avas  a Avonder  and  an  impatience  that  the 
“by-Avays”  Avere  so  thronged. 

But  the  shadoAvs  increased,  “her  strength  became  Aveariness,” 
and  “the  grasshojiper  a burden.”  “Tired,  so  tired,”  Avas  often 
the  pathetic  plaint  AA’hich  mingled  Avith  this  thank-acknoAvledg- 
ment  so  familiar  to  her  lijis,  “Goodness  and  mercy  have  folloAA'ed 
me  all  the  days  of  my  life.”  In  the  bloom  of  her  youth  she  had 
become,  in  its  Christlike  significance,  a “little  child.”  With  the 
apjAroach  of  age  she  recognized  its  inevitable  tendency,  struggled 
for  a time  against  it,  and  then  patiently  submitted  to  the  AA’eak- 
ness  of  the  “second  childhood.”  In  this  sorroAvful  stage  of  life 
the  guilelessncss  of  infancy  Avas  so  manifest,  as  to  Avin  admiration, 
even  amid  the  pathetic  notes  of  the  loosening  “silver  chords.” 

Her  attacks  of  debility  noAV  became  frequent,  and  Avithout 
disease,  or  pain,  the  fountain  of  life  ran  1oaa\  But  the  Avatchful 
care  of  friends  AA’as  blessed  in  a repeated  reaction,  and  Avith  re- 
turning strength  came  assiduous  apjilication  to  her  emidoyn'>ents, 
these  principally  consisting  in  making  of  various  mementoes  for 
friends,  the  completion  of  AAdiich  she  felt  Avould  be  the  last  she 
could  undertake. 

On  Monday,  May  11,  1886,  Avhilst  moulding  Avax  to  finish  up 
some  sprigs  of  floAA’ers  for  the  teachers  and  senior  class,  as  a 
slight  return  for  their  kindness  on  her  preceding  birth-day,  she 
contracted  a cold.  Tuesday  she  remained  in  her  room,  but  Avas 
so  much  recovered  on  Wednesday  as  to  insist  on  going  to  College 


17 


that  she  might  meet  this  class,  and  herself  present  to  them  these 
tokens  of  her  handiwork.  Their  absence  from  College,  in  the 
composition  of  Commencement  essays,  was  a disappointment,  and 
she  returned  home  prostrated  and  very  indisposed.  During  the 
night  asthma  developed.  It  was  not  a severe  attack,  there  was 
no  acute  j)ain,  only  the  distress  of  short  breathing ; yet  “so 
flight  was  her  experience  of  aches  and  pains”  that  she  felt  that 
this  was  beyond  her  strength  of  endurance.  This  distress  com 
tinned  in  a '"greater  or  less  degree  through  her  illness,  and  th 
unremitting  attention  of  friends,  and  the  skill  of  physicians  could 
scarcely^', alleviate  it.  With  no  acute  pain,  and  no  fever,  or 
abnormal  pulse,  or  threatening  symptom,  the  “wheel”  at  the 
“cistern”  was  surely  shattering,  and  we  felt  that  .prayer  and  effort 
would  alike  unavail  to  [retain  her  from  the  “long  home.”  Her 
distress  through  all  her  illness  was  permeated  with  the  submis- 
siveness  of  the  Christian.  “Though  He  slay  me,  yet  will  I trust 
in  Him.”  “It  is  the  Lord,  let  Him  do  what  seemeth  Him  good.” 
“I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth.”  And  with  many  other 
beautiful  promises  and  portions  did  she  comfort  herself. 
Scripture  reading  and  prayer  were  a delight,  and  her  own  peti- 
tions almost  unceasing.  For  hours  would  she  pray,  striving  to 
recollect  every  person  and  object,  recalling  again  and  again  some 
beloved  one,  and  pleading  in  their  behalf.  Psalms  and  hymns 
were  often  too  repeated.  The  twenty-third  Psalm  and  the  hymn, 
“How  firm  a foundation,  ye  saints  of  the  Lord,”  she  for  many 
years  was  in  the  habit  of  repeating  just  before  sleeping.  I should 
have  mentioned  elsewhere  that  her  regular  order  of  Scripture 
reading  was,  ten  chapters  each  in  the  Old  and  New  Testaments 
every  Sabbath,  and  a portion  every  morning  of  the  week. 

• On  the  evening  of  May  the  26th  she  was  more  comfortable, 
and  with  the  desire  to  console  one  whose  sorrowful  countenance 
she  noticed,  she  smiled  and  said,  “Don’t  grieve,  I will  stay  with 
you  imtil  to-morrow  evening.”  And  knowing  our  anxiety  to 
stimulate  her  lost  appetite  she  asked  for  coffee.  Afterwards  took 
both  tonic  and  stimulant,  and  then  with  a sigh  as  of  relief  said, 
“Now  let  me  sleep,”  and  in  a few  moments  was  slumbering  as 
sweetly  and  calmly  as  an  infant.  This  was  unbroken  until  mid- 
night, the  hour  for  her  medicine,  and  as  her  pulse  continued  good 
we  hoped  it  would  prove  beneficial.  But  the  attempt  to  arouse 


18 


her  was  vain,  and  in  a short  time  she,  who  had  “all  her  life  been 
subject  to  bondage  through  fear  of  death,”  unconsciously  j^assed 
the  dark  valley  and  entered  upon  her  reward.  May  27,  1886. 

It  was  past  the  middle  ^^•atches  and  she  slept, 

Was  it  a dream? 

That  she  stood  upon  the  shelving  brink 
Of  Jordan’s  fearful  stream? 

Trembling  stood,  until  the  angel  Azrael  spake 
These  words  of  cheer  : 

Child  of  God  ! I’ll  bear  thee  safely  through  the  waters  ! 

Do  not  fear  ! 

Oil  tlie  other  side  One  met  her,  lovingly. 

Is  it  a dream? 

And  He  pointed  to  the  soul-home. 

Blazing  in  its  gloiy  gleam. 

Led  her  up  a starry  pathway 

Till  the  jeweled  gates  -were  passed. 

Dreaming  ! Joy,  oh,  joy  ineffiible. 

Awake,  in  heaven  at  last ! 

“And,  lo!  as  she  entered  she  was  transfigured,  and  she  had 
r.unient  put  on  her  that  shone  like  gold.  There  were  also  that 
met,  with  harp  and  crown,  and  gave  them  tO  :^her — the  harp  to 
praise  withal,  and  the  ci’owu  in  token  of  honor ; and  all  the  bells 
ill  the  city  rang  again  for  joy,  as  it  was  said  unto  her,  ‘Enter 
into  the  joy  of  your  Lord.’  ” 

Very  tender  was  the  chill  hand  which  smoothed  from  her  care- 
worn face  its  many  furrows  and  left  a halo  of  peace  upon  her 
aged  brow. 

Covered  with  floral  tributes,  after  an  approjiriate  funeral  ser- 
vice, her  remains  were  deposited  in  the  cemetery  of  the  Associate 
Reformed  Presbyterian  church  at  Due  West,  wdiere  the  sound  of 
both  church  and  college  bells  will  often  reverberate,  but  never 
again  recall  her  to  the  worship  of  the  one,  or  the  service  of  the 
other. 

“I  hope  I may  die  in  warm  weather,  and  not  in  the  bleak,  in- 
clement winter.”  This  was  often,  latterly,  an  expressed  desire. 
She  so  loved  sunshine  and  brightness,  and  probably  deprecated 
for  others  the  discomfort  of  the  season  in  the  necessary  watching 
and  attention  of  illness,  death  and  burial.  But  her  “time”  was 
in  an  indulgent  Father’s  hand,  and  He  made  it  subservient  to  her 


19 


wish.  On  a balmy  May  night,  a very  gem  in  its  cloudless  beauty, 
she  left  us,  and  went  to  be  for  ever  with  the  Lord. 

‘ ‘That  where  I am  there  ye 
May  also  come  to  me.” 

Not  as  a mournful  dole, 

Accepted  douhtingly, 

But  gladly  she  received 
This  message  of  His  word, 

In  all  its  glorious  heights  and  depths, 

“Forever  with  the  Lord.” 

Be3’ond,  it  maj'  be  far 
Yon  constellated  dome, 

Or  verj"  near  to  earth 
The  portals  of  this  liome  ; 

Yet  there’s  a place  “prepared,” 

Such  is  his  blessed  word, 

Where  will  be  garnered  all  His  own, 

“Forever  with  the  Lord.” 

Saints  of  all  ages  there, 

1 A great  unnirmber’d  throng  ; 

What  will  it  be  to  hear 

And  join  their  glad  “new  song”? 

The  matchless  song  of  grace. 

To  tell  its  numbers  o’er. 

And  ’neath  the  radiance  of  His  face 
Abide  forevermore. 

Kindred  and  precious  friends 
Are  with  that  ransomed  host, 

Those  that  with  us  she  mourned, 

The  loved  and  carlj'  lost ; 

Lost  ! It  is  onlj’  ours. 

That  sorrow-laden  word. 

Ye’re  safe,  beloved  ; O,  happy  lot, 

“Forever  with  the  Lord.” 

Faithful  and  true  in  life. 

Faithful  unto  the  end  ; 

O,  that,  like  one  of  old. 

Her  mantle  might  desend. 

Full-sheaved,  at  eventide. 

She  went  to  her  reward, 

A spotless  robe,  a jewelled  crown, 

“Forever  with  the  Lord.” 


20 


Gates  of  pure  pearl  and  gold, 

Bright  mansions  of  the  blest, 

Somewhere  within  your  fold 
She’s  found  her  longedrfor  rest  ; 

Close  to  the  great  white  throne. 

Near  by  the  crystal  sea. 

Friend  of  my  life,  thou’rt  “with  the  Lord,” 

Through  all  eternity  ! 

This  simple  chronicle,  friends,  is  now  before  you.  It  has  been 
written  as  tenderly  and  ingenuously  as  if  “face  to  face”  in  her 
own  little  room,  so  hallowed  by  prayer  and  praise,  a very  Penial 
indeed,  we  had  met  together  and  talked  of  “these  things.”  And 
have  I in  aught  exaggerated  or  even  told  the  half? 

May  we  learn  as  she  did  the  Christian’s  secret  of  a hajipy  life, 
that  life  which  is  “hid  with  Christ  in  God,”  so  that  “when  Christ 
who  is  our  life  shall  appear  then  shall  we  also  appear  with  him  in 
glory.” 


o 

FACULTY  OF  DUE  WEST  FEMALE  COLLEGE. 

Resolutions  in  reference  to  the  death  of  Miss  Elizabeth  McQuerxs 
adopted  hy  the  Faculty  of  the  Due  West  Female  College  : 

AVhereas,  It  has  pleased  our  heavenly  Father  to  remove  from  our  miilst 
Miss  Elizabeth  McQueens  ; and,  whereas,  we  know  He  doeth  what  He 
may  with  his  own,  and  whatsoever  he  doeth  is  right  ; therefore  resolved, 

1.  That  we  how  in  humhle  submission  to  that  dispensation  of  Provi- 
dence that  removes  from  our  sight  our  venerable  and  beloved  friend. 

2.  That  the  College  with  which  she  has  been  identifled  during  its 
whole  history,  has  lost  a faithful  and  conscientious  teacher  ; our  commu- 
nity the  living  examplification  of  the  beauty  and  power  of  a holy  life  ; 
the  poor  and  distressed  a symjiathizing  and  unfailing  friend  ; the  church 
and  all  its  enterprises  an  earnest  and  generous  supporter. 

3.  And  while  we  must  mourn  our  irreparable  loss,  we  feel  grateful  for 
the  pleasing  assurance  we  are  permitted  to  cherish,  that  for  her  to  depart 
was  far  better,  and  that  .she  has  gone  to  “the  mountain  of  myrrh,  and  to 
the  hill  of  frankincense,  till  the  day  break  and  the  shadows  flee  away.” 

4.  That  we  mingle  our  tears  with  those  friends,  scattered  all  over  this 
Southern  land,  to  whom  the  name  of  Miss  McQueens  is  as  ointment 
poured  forth,  and  who  mourn,  most  of  all,  because  they  shall  see  her  face 
no  more. 

5.  That  we  cherish  her  memory  as  a priceless  heritage,  and  that  wc 
imitate  tqe  noble  example  she  has  set  before  us,  inasmuch  as  throughout 
her  whole  life  she  has  quietly  and  consistently  followed  the  footsteps  of 
her  Di\ine  IMaster,  that  she  has  gone  about  doing  good,  and  has  lived,  not 
for  herself  alone,  but  for  all  those  whom  God  has  made  her  neighbors. 

0.  That  the  Associate  Reformed  Preshyierian  be  requested  to  publi.sh 
these  resolutions,  and  the  Abbeville  papers  to  copy  them. 


AMELIAN  LITEEAEA’  .SOCIETY  OF  DUE  WEST  FEMALE  COLLEGE. 
Re.solutions  adopted  by  the  Ainelian  Literary  Ijcclety  of  the  Due  West 
Female  College  ; 

Whereas,  It  has  pleased  God  in  his  prox  idence  to  remove  from  our 
midst  our  faithful  and  venerable  teacher.  Miss  Elizabeth  jMcQuEENS, 
who  has  for  so  many  years  been  the  stay  of  our  Institution  ; resolved, 

1.  That  we  have  sustained  an  irreparable  loss  in  the  death  of  this 
beloved  friend. 

2.  That  we  recognize  the  merciful  hand  of  Providence  in  this  our 
great  bereavement,  and  bow  in  humble  submission  to  His  divine  will. 


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3.  That  wt  will  endeav  or  to  heed  his  nohlc  counsels,  imitate  her  true 
womanly  character,  and  keep  fresh  the  memory  oi  this  consistent  Chris- 
tian. 

4.  That  we  will  wear,  until  the  expiration  of  the  session,  the  usual 
badge  of  mourning,  as  a fceldc  indication  of  our  inexpressible  reverence 
for  our  departed  friend. 

5.  That  we  will  devote  a page  to  her  memory  in  the  records  of  our 
S jciety. 

0.  That  we  respectfully  request  the  publication  of  these  resolutions  in 
the  Associate  Reformed  Preslyterian  and  the  County  papers. 


FACULTY  OF  ERSKIXE  COLLEGE. 

Whereas,  It  has  pleased  the  sovereign  Disposer  of  all  things  to  remove 
from  us  by  death  that  illu.strious  teacher  and  eminent  Christian,  Mis.s 
Elizabeth  McQueens  ; therefore  resolved, 

1.  That  we  humbly  submit  to  the  will  of  Him  who  doeth  well— the 
Lord  gave  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away  ; blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord. 

2.  That  in  her  death  the  cause  of  education  has  lost  one  of  its  ablest 
and  mots  zealous  friends,  and  the  youth  of  both  sexes  their  safest  coun- 
selor, and  the  brightest  example  of  a sanctified,  educated  life. 

3.  That  as  an  expression  of  our  respect  for  her  memory,  we  adjourn 
the  College  for  the  remainder  of  the  day  after  the  exercises  of  this  morn- 
ing. 

4.  That  a copy  ol’  these  resolutions  be  published  in  the  Associate  Re- 
formed Presbyterian. 


ladies’  3IISSIONARY  SOCIETY. 

At  a meeting  of  the  Ladies  Missionary  Society  of  Due  West  the  following 
preamble  and  resolutions  were  adopted  : 

Whereas,  God  in  his  providence  has  been  pleased  to  remove  from  a 
sphere  of  usefulness  and  honor  in  our  midst  our  much  esteemed  and  be- 
loved colaborcr,  Bliss  Elizabeth  McCJuerns,  a most  active  and  influen- 
tial member  of  our  Society  (the  originator  of  it,  and  in  that  way  the  orig- 
inator of  other  Societies  throughout  Synod),  who,  we  all  have  every  reason 
to  believe,  was  ready  and  patiently  waiting  for  the  summons  of  her  divine 
Master,  and  that  she  is  now  enjoying  the  fullness  of  the  iire.sence  of  Him 
she  so  delighted  to  serve  Him  here  below  ; therefore  be  it  resolved, 

1.  That  we  regard  this  as  a .sad  deprivation  <ind  an  afflictive  loss  to  us 
as  a Society  and  as  Christian  friends. 

2.  That  we  will  best  manifest  respect  to  the  memory  of  her  whose  loss 
we  deplore  by  endeavoring  to  imitate  her  example  and  by  cultivating 
those  lovely  qualities  which  rendered  her  so  dear  to  us,  and  which  was 
so  greatly  esteemed  by  all  who  knew  her. 


3.  That  ^ve  wijl  cherish  her  memory  lor  her  almsdeecls,  her  benevo- 
lence, her  sj'mpathj'  with  the  poor  and  afflicted,  her  prayers,  her  deep 
solicitude  for  the  welfare  of  those  who  were  afar  off  as  well  as  for  those 
near  her. 

4.  That  we  express  our  thanks  to  Almighty  God  for  raising  up  and 
continuing  among  us  so  long  one  who  seemed  to  fill  the  picture  of  a 
“handmaid  of  the  Lord.” 

5.  That  we  bow  with  humble  submission  to  that  mysterious  Provi- 
dence which  doeth  all  things  for  the  good  of  his  own  people. 

t).  That  a page  in  our  Minute  book  he  inscribed  to  her  memory. 

7.  That  a copy  of  these  resolutions  be  published  in  the  Associate  Re- 
formed Presbyterian. 


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